


Hands to Yourself, Mr. Becket

by kuro49



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, one: don't you ever touch me again, two: don't you ever touch me again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stacker teaches Raleigh how not to touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands to Yourself, Mr. Becket

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted this and then I tried pestering Ka to write me this, and instead, ended up goading myself into writing it because I am lame and easy. Literally no plot, just porn.

It’s a practice in self-restraint when the man makes it clear that he is not to touch him, twice.

It’s a practice that currently has Raleigh Becket clenching his hands into the pillows above his head on a bed that is very much not his own. The Marshal is kneeling above him, his dress shirt still done up to the top button, cuff links still in place like Raleigh hasn’t been lying stretched out and naked underneath him for a good while now.

On edge and with Stacker Pentecost still pushing him further, Raleigh’s arms shake a little above his head when the end of his tie grazes over his sternum. The fact that it is not so much as physical exertion as it is his want to put his own claim on the man doesn’t quite escape Raleigh either. So it’s a practice in self discipline when Stacker wraps a hand around his dripping cock without warning and brings him off in a pace that is entirely too slow and methodical for Raleigh Becket.

But he is panting openly, eyes half lidded and it drives him out of his skin to see the man with such control. He arches his spine, lifts his hips just off the bed, and there is no reprimand, just Stacker touching the curve of his hips and slowly presses him back into the mattress.

The slide of Stacker’s dress pants against his bare thighs is good, so good Raleigh spreads his legs just a little wider for the man with a soft groan. Stacker doesn’t pull away and Raleigh lets himself enjoy that little bit of contact aside from the hand still jerking him off.

When he comes, Stacker drags a hand up his sides as he shakes, keeps him pinned to the bed with his lips over his, tongue licking into his opened mouth in a way that Raleigh is entirely eager to have more, and more of.

And he tells him just that.

Stacker simply hums in response, swallows another throaty noise Raleigh lets out and eases him through the last of his orgasm.

He doesn’t need to be reminded again that he is not to touch Stacker Pentecost but when the man is leaning back, he makes another noise but knows better than to reach out for more than what he is being given. Raleigh is smarter than to making the same mistakes. So when Stacker drags two fingers through the splatter of white across his stomach, Raleigh eagerly opens his mouth for the man to press his fingertips against the flat of his tongue.

He licks his fingers clean, and when Stacker pulls them back, there is a thin string of saliva that connects them. Raleigh doesn’t miss the look Stacker gives him, it is hard to when the heat pools and he is left aching in his skin, eager to please the man above him.

“Let’s get started, shall we, Mr. Becket?”

Raleigh doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t know how to so he swallows thickly, nodding just as he turns his head to the hand Stacker rests over the curve of his jaw.

“And you’ll know to ask permission every step of the way?”

Raleigh’s eyes glance down and it doesn’t escape him that the front of Stacker Pentecost’s sharp pressed dress pants is tented. The smile that spreads over his lips doesn’t demonstrate half of what he is willing to do for this man.

Instead, he says.

“Yes, sir.”

And for now, that’s more than enough.

XXX Kuro


End file.
